


grey eyes, grey skies

by theadamantdaughter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fluff, and angst i guess?, blackashi, pure fluff, shallura - Freeform, whatever for once in my life it's not porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theadamantdaughter/pseuds/theadamantdaughter
Summary: i.e. a crappy drabble that focuses on allura’s pov when she carries shiro’s soul in her body.





	grey eyes, grey skies

**Author's Note:**

> this was partly inspired by the score, you found me, and i really tried to capture the emotions in the music. but, mostly, this was inspired by a lot of shallura/crying. hardly edited so jiwjaefj

“This body is barely living, but Shiro’s spirit is alive.” Keith pauses, gently laying Shiro—or, what they thought to be—out on the ground. “It’s inside the Black Lion. I’ve heard him talking to me.”  


There’s an immediate reaction from Lance. He says something, falls to the ground beside the lifeless form, but Allura can’t hear him.

Her ears ring.

_All this time,_ she thinks. All this time, the pull from within Voltron… she remembers the violent surge in the rift, that led her to pour out her quintessence…  she recalls the gentle whisper in the quiet, in the stillness after every battle. Every night she swears the Head is murmuring to her, soothing her Heart through the walls of the castle while she dreams about her true Black Paladin.

Now she knows: it’s more than her connection to it, more than her tethered life force.

It’s him;  _it’s Shiro_. 

The edge of her vision shimmers with purple, and she imagines his embrace. It’s been Shiro all along.

With a comforting touch, Allura smiles softly in the face of Lance’s tears and stands up. She’s unsure what she means to do, whether it’s instinct or Shiro reaching out and plucking at the tendrils of her soul once again. Something draws her to the face of his lion—an infinite, maternal love that’s so vast, she’s nearly overcome by it.

How fiercely Black must love him, to harbor his life within her own.

_I love you, too,_  Allura thinks, fingers laying out on Black’s giant maw.  _I love you, Shiro. I want you to come home._

She pours the words into the lion, fills up her endless consciousness. If Allura only could feel him, if only she could tell him she’s here—

Like shattered stars, her heart fractures. The pieces seem to scatter, leaving her on the cusp of breathlessness, on the edge of nothingness. She sees emptiness, hears eternity.

Then, purple.

Black.

White. Silver. Pink.

All around her, in every direction, the horizon ahead is dusted with planets and unknown planes; the earth beneath her feet shimmers like a pool of glass. Odd sounds trickle in and out, a babbling creek against this stillness between time and space.

She feels a heartbeat.

She feels  _everything._

A wave of warmth crashes over her. Peace radiates through her. In some distant pocket of her mind, Allura knows this is Black. She’s been tugged within the lion, like the beast is a magnet and her soul is made of tiny, metal fragments.

But, far more predominant in her thoughts is him— she’s here for him.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._  Her heart screams.

The pulse reflects in the pool, bursts across the stars with radiant speckles of pink.

Her call is answered with darts of black, bursts of purple.

_…my Princess… Allura…_

In that moment, she almost falters. It’s overwhelming to hear his voice again. The gentle caress of it, so tangible here, brushes against her essence. Allura swears she can touch it, and she tries.

Without thought, her hands extend out. She reaches towards the warmth, the heartbeat, the presence of his soul, curls her fingers around it. 

“Shiro,” her voice echoes. “Shiro, come home.” 

And, he’s there, a hair’s breadth from her fingertips. Black gives him up.

Or… maybe Black was never hiding him; maybe Allura simply had to find him.

She rests her palms on his chest, right above the Voltron  _V_ , looks up. His eyes are alight, the color of a cloudy day. His smile is soft, a gentle kiss from the wind. His body, though as immaterial as this place, is steady beneath her touch. And, he’s warm, like his Earth’s sun.

Emanating pastels and purples, colors like a beautiful moon, his fingers whisper across her cheek. “Allura.”

That’s all it takes for her soul to break, for her heart to wrap around him and pull him deep within. She’s never felt more alive. She’s never felt more loved. She’s feels so safe, so strong, so  _complete._

Is she meant to stay here? Will she hold him like this forever? She would, because there’s nothing else like this.

Closing her eyes, Allura breathes in; there’s no need for air here, but she holds the expansion of her lungs and drinks him up, until her blood seems to buzz. When she lets the sigh go, a whisper of gratitude given to Black, and she blinks her eyes open, Allura’s question is answered.

Gone is the astral plane. Gone is the apparition of her beloved Paladin.

What she has—the very life, the very essence of Shiro dancing purple and delicate in the air around her—is so much better than her wildest imagination.

Suddenly, there’s nothing left to chance, to doubt. She knows what she must do.

Allura pulls her hands from the Black Lion, hyper-focused on the lifeless body a few paces from her feet, but all too aware of the light, the air, the beats of nervous hearts that wait for her to move. She bows behind Shiro’s new body, rests her old friend’s head in her lap.

Fingers draped feather-light on his temples, the life within her chest is too much now.

It burns. It glows. It drowns.

She pushes it out, that heat, that peace, that love; Allura knows she’ll have it again.

At last, she feels it all within him. At last, the glow begins to fade. The tendrils of his soul, however reluctant they seem to leave, slip from her veins, whispering so softly like kisses through her fingertips, taking root in his body and turning his hair snow white.

Shiro’s heart bursts into a new song. His chest fills. His eyes come alive with the purple quintessence she now intimately knows, the quintessence that stains her soul to match his.  

The purple ebbs away.

His eyes return to grey.

Shiro gasps around that first, full breath and he awakes.

Keith has him. Keith holds him. There’s so much comfort in the Red Paladin’s words. Shiro’s expression shifts from shock to sheer relief. And Allura moves, to better see him, to be seen by him. She feels the pinning stares of the group, the mixed expressions of awe and happiness. Does it show? How anxious she is to study his face?

Dropping to her knees in front of him, Allura smiles and Shiro’s eyes focus. Their shared look is soft, tender. Affectionate. It’s everything she’s wanted for months.

Her soul whispers out to him, praying he still hears it, _Takashi._

And, Shiro answers, “You found me.”

Three simple words. They wreck her, reshape her. Louder than the roar of all five lions, celebrating the return of their Black Paladin, Allura’s heart sings a thousand Altean praises. All her fears are gone—the guilt over Shiro’s death, the battle in the rift, the madness in Lotor and the destruction she nearly created; it’s not her fault. She’s forgiven. Maybe, someday, she’ll find the words in Shiro’s language. Someday, she’ll thank him for the love he deposited in endless pockets all throughout her body, but this is no time to dwell on it.

So, she leans forward, closer to him, and she simply says, “Rest.”

He smiles. His eyes drift shut.

At last, their souls find peace.


End file.
